


Like a Moth to a Flame

by Jacksonofabitch



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Keith is a mothman fanboy, Lance is mothman, M/M, also argue, he runs the fanclub, still can't tag stuff, they flirt a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-20 01:11:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10651875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacksonofabitch/pseuds/Jacksonofabitch
Summary: Lance is local vigilante hero Mothman. Keith is the number one Mothman fanboy. Lance likes Keith, but Keith couldn't care less about anyone who wasn't Mothman.





	1. Introduction

Alarms blared loud and shocking on the quiet, dark street. A lone figure clothes in black burst out of the door of the jewelry store, loaded bag slung over his back and eyes wide. He hadn’t been expecting the second alarm, but it hardly mattered now that he was done. He took off sprinting down the street, taking a confusing mess of twisting alleys and side streets until he was far away enough from the store to relax. He’d gotten away and now he was going to be rich.

 “No offense, but I really don’t think jewelry’s your thing.”

The thief jumped, staring up at the slim teen sitting on top of a fence. Large white moth wings with blue spots extended from his back, fluttering slightly as the boy stood up. A black mask, coupled with a large hood, covered his face. He was wearing a tight-fitting outfit, black with touches of blue, that accented his athletic build.

“What? I know it can be quite shocking, seeing a celebrity as cool as me this close.” The teen strolled along the fence, getting closer to the man. “Want an autograph?” The man remained frozen, watching the other. “Not talking? Cat got your tongue?”

There was a loud jingle when the bag hit the ground. The thief raised his hands in surrender. “Please don’t hurt me, Mothman.”

“I—I’m not gonna hurt you.” Mothman hopped down from the fence. “Just get on your knees and put your hands behind your back.”

The man did as he said and the teen walked behind him, pulling something out of a pocket. He zip tied the thief’s hands together tightly. By then, the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance and growing closer.

“The authorities are already heading to your location, Lance,” a British woman’s voice informed him by way of the headset. “You should get out of there.”

“Yeah, yeah, in a sec. I want to make sure he doesn’t wiggle away somehow.” Lance grinned, now able to see the flashing lights in the distance. “Besides, it’s no fun if I’m not spotted.”

“I don’t remember you being in this for the fame,” Allura remarked dryly. He could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Just be careful. I don’t want you getting caught.”

“Aw, don’t want to lose your favorite hero?”

“You’re not my favorite hero.”

“Pssh, I’m everyone’s favorite hero.” The first police car screeched to a halt halfway down the block. Two cops got out, guns pulled and shouting for Lance to get on the ground. “No worries, gentlemen,” Lance said, hands raised to show that he was unarmed. “I have done your job for you. Now I bid you goodnight.”

Before the cops could react, his wings spread and flapped down, lifting him swiftly off the ground and into the inky black sky.

~

“Ugh,” Lance said, leaning heavily against his locker. “I want to die. I think I might already be dead. Hunk, do I look dead to you.”

“You always look dead to me,” Pidge spoke up from behind him.

Lance glared back at her. “Shush, little Pidgeon. I was speaking to Hunk.” He turned to the large angel of a person he’d been graced to know since third grade. “Hunk, tell me I’m pretty.”

“You’re pretty, Lance. Did you study for the math test?”

“There was a math test?” Lance groaned, debating if the school building would be high enough to kill him. “Why didn’t he announce it?”

“He did,” Pidge and Hunk both answered. “Twice,” Hunk added.

The tall Cuban shrugged. “It’s Iverson. I can’t listen to anything he says. Honestly, worst teacher ever. In the history of teaching.”

“That so, McClain?”

The three teens turned to see Mr. Iverson looming over them, hands on his hips and usual scowl on his face. “Glad to know that you’re facing the day with the usual lack of preparedness. Maybe three days of detention would help sort you out.” Lance looked ready to argue, but after a warning elbow from Hunk, shut his mouth and nodded solemnly. “Good. Now get to class, the three of you.”

“What an asshole,” Lance exclaimed, the moment they were in the classroom and out of earshot. “I have the right to say whatever the hell I want. He’s a shitty teacher and he treats me like shit.”

Hunk nodded. “He does seem to have it out for you.”

“Must be jealous of my good looks and charming attitude.”

“Or because you walked in late the first day with Starbucks and started flirting with his niece in the middle of class,” Pidge said as they took their seats in the back of the class. “I thought he was going to just straight up murder you then.”

“With this face? Nah. It’d be too great a loss for humanity.” Lance’s smirk fell from his face as another student walked in, familiar red jacket and long dark hair immediately grabbing his attention. “Ugh. Why do we have to have our first class with Keith?”

Hunk sighed. “Why do you have such a big problem with him?”

“His mullet offends me.”

“He’s the president of your fanclub. Don’t you like people adoring you?”

 _“Hunk,”_ Lance hissed, glancing at the people around them as if he were afraid they had heard. “I don’t _have_ a fanclub. Though I do deserve one. But it’d be filled with hot chicks and Nyma would be president, not Mullet-boy. _He_ runs the Mothman fanclub.”

Pidge rolled her eyes. “Technically, it’s a cryptid/supernatural phenomenon club, and I would kindly remind you that I am vice-president.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Iverson walked into the room as the bell rang, immediately sending a threatening glare to Lance. “Hunk, what is this test on?” Lance whispered out of the side of his mouth.

“Chapter 10.”

“Thanks.” Lance watched as Iverson held up a stack of papers, talking about… something. “Uh, what’s chapter 10 on?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just the introductory chapter, I promise the next chapters will probably be a bit longer. I'll try to be regular with updates, but no promises lol. I have the chapter amount set at ten, but it's likely to change.


	2. RIP Lance's Grades

“Well, that was awful.” Lance yawned as the three walked out of the classroom. “Definitely failed.”

“Didn’t you study for it?” Hunk asked. “Or do the homework?”

The thin teen shrugged, “Meant to. I was kinda busy. Allura wanted to do some more training and then Coran needed me to test out some of the new gadgets he’s been working on. I barely have time to sleep anymore.”

“Maybe you should talk to Allura about easing up on you a bit. I mean, your grades are kinda…” Hunk trailed off, looking concerned.

Lance laughed. “You mean that they’re shit, right? Yeah, I know. But I really _can’t._ Crime isn’t going to stop just because I’m about to be grounded for failing all my classes, now is it?” He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Hunk. I’ll figure out a way to get them back up before the end of the semester.”

“Maybe you should get a tutor,” Pidge suggested. She smirked. “You always ask Keith.”

“And have to stare at the mullet even more? Ugh, no thanks.” They made it to their second class of the day. “Besides, how great can Keith be? It isn’t like he’s perfect at everything.”

“He does get top grades,” Hunk pointed out, becoming very interested in the contents of his bag when Lance glared at him. “If you need help studying, I can lend you my notes and go over stuff with you when you have time but-”

“But I never have time.” Lance yawned again. “I’ll see if I can get some time off. I’m sure she’d understand.”

“Yeah, sure.”

~

“Lance McClain, come here.”

Lance gritted his teeth, hitching his backpack higher on his shoulder before turning away from the exit and back to where Iverson was waiting for him. “Yeah?”

“Due to your dismal academic performance these past few weeks, it’s been decided that you’re to be tutored in the library for an hour after school every day, until your grades have risen.” Iverson smirked as he spoke, watching Lance’s reaction with a look of sadistic satisfaction that Pidge and Hunk would say was just his imagination. “Your parents have agreed to this as well. Failure to show up will result in detention.”

 _Great. Allura’ll love this._ Trying to maintain a calm expression, Lance nodded. “Who’s the tutor?”

Iverson stepped to the side, revealing none over than Keith standing behind him, attention fixed on his phone. “Given Keith’s excellent academic history, it was a simple decision and he generously agreed to give up his time. Do not waste it.”

“Why couldn’t Hunk or Pidge do it?” Lance demanded without thinking. “I’d rather have one of them.”

The man’s eyes narrowed as he glared at the teen. “Keith was the one decided on. If you wanted to study with your friends, then you should have done this long before now.” He cleared his throat. “The tutoring will begin tomorrow immediately after your last class, so plan accordingly. Any lateness or rudeness will be reported and punished accordingly. Understand?” Lance nodded glumly. “Good. You’re dismissed.”

Lance strode quickly out of the building, fists clenched tightly in his pockets as he half jogged to Hunk’s beat up jeep. “I _hate_ Iverson. I hate Keith. I hate this fuckin’ school.”

Hunk stared at him with wide eyes. “Uh, buddy? Somethin’ happen? You were a bit late comin’ out.” He pulled out of the school parking lot. “What’d Iverson do?”

“I’m going to be tutored. By _Keith._ ” Lance wanted to vomit. Or punch something. “My parents even agreed to it, can you believe? I couldn’t even pick someone to tutor me. They just went and chose Keith because of his ‘excellent academic history.’ He didn’t look at me when Iverson was talking. Asshole.”

“Probably reading the latest Mothman article. Came out during last period.” Hunk glanced at him, hoping it would cheer Lance up a bit. “About the jewelry thief you caught. Pretty cool.”

“Great.” Lance looked out the window glumly. “At least, one of my lives is going okay. Never mind that one of them is going up in flames.”

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” Hunk said, usual optimism shining through. “I mean, how long will this last?”

“It’s an hour every day, Hunk. _Every day._ Until my grades are passable.” He groaned. “I’m gonna die.”

“Maybe you and Keith’ll finally get along.” Lance scoffed in disbelief. “Or you could just ask him what he thinks of Mothman and listen to him ramble about how great you are the entire time. That’ll be nice, right?”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Except it’s Keith and I hate Keith.” They drove through the large gate that led to Altea, Allura’s family estate and pulled up in front of the mansion. “You want to come in for a bit? Have look at the new gadgets?”

“No, I was kinda planning on checking out that new restaurant in town, The Balmera. Remember me telling you about it?”

“I remember you checking out that cute waitress when we walked past.” Lance smirked when Hunk flushed slightly. “Go on, my dude. Your lady awaits. Get her number. Maybe she has a friend for me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Worry about your grades and then girls, Lance. See you tomorrow.”

Lance got out of the car, waving by as he walked up the front steps. Before he even raised his hand to knock, the door swung open, revealing a neatly dressed, ginger haired man. “Lance, my boy! Good to see you. Allura’s waiting in the sitting room to discuss today’s tasks.”

“Thanks, Coran.” He dropped his bag in its usual place before heading to where the lady of the house was waiting for him. Allura was shuffling through some papers when he walked in, glancing up when he walked in. “Hey, Allura. I kind of needed to talk to you about my schedule?”

“Yes, I needed to talk to you about that as well,” she answered, setting the papers down. “You’ve been coming along very well with your shooting skills and your flying is, of course, perfect, but I still have some concern about your hand to hand combat. Since we haven’t come up with a reliable and non-deadly weapon you can shoot, you need to work much harder on them. So I would like you to spend more of the weekday afternoons after school here and working on it.”

The teen scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, that might be a bit of a problem. See I’m kinda failing a lot of my classes, and I’ve been assigned a tutor that I have to meet after school.”

“Oh.” Allura’s face gave little away, but he could see the disapproval in the way the corners of her mouth turned down. “Well, I would’ve hoped that you’d been able to manage your grades well enough on your own, but there is no helping that now. I do expect that you’ll be here after your tutoring to train.”

“Yes, ma’am. Shall we start?”

“In a minute,” Coran said as he came in. “First I have a little snack.” He set down a tray and lifted off the cover, revealing what Lance supposed was meant to be food. It looked suspiciously like an animal organ stuffed with a weird purplish plant. “Eat up now. This will give you lots of energy and focus for your training today.”

Lance wrinkled his nose and looked at Allura pleadingly, seeing a bit of sympathy in her eyes. “Uh, yeah, I’m not all that hungry. I had a granola bar on the way over, so I’m good. But thanks, Coran.”

“Are you sure?” Lance nodded. “Well, more for me then. The training room is set up for when you’re ready.”

Allura stood up. “We’ll begin immediately. We have a lot to go over before you go on patrol this evening.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A kinda boring chapter, but hurray Coran and Allura have appeared. There'll be some Keith happening next time~


End file.
